Younger Now is a bit of a sly nod to a public who watched Miley Cyrus explore a defiantly loud post-adolescence: she may be older, but she's not necessarily grown up. The joke is, Younger Now is most certainly an album that announces Miley's mature phase, a record that shakes off the druggy haze of Miley Cyrus & Her Dead Petz -- an album cut at the height of her infatuation with the Flaming Lips -- yet retains the services of Oren Yoel, a producer/songwriter who collaborated with her on that 2015 digital-only effort. That's the first sign that Younger Now may not be the back-to-the-roots move its retro-iconography and Dolly Parton duet may suggest. Certainly, there are country-ish songs scattered throughout the album -- a hoedown and a waltz, but mostly ballads -- but they're delivered with an arched eyebrow, a distancing effect accentuated by how the album unfurls with a pair of songs where Cyrus brightens up the Californian melancholy of Lana Del Rey. Despite a showstopping performance or two, the kind of pyrotechnics that sound ripped from the heart, sadness isn't Miley's thing. Her specialty is good times, either raving until the early dawn or chilling out on the beach...or maybe whiling away the hours online. Without ever succumbing to the garish neon extremes of Bangerz or the hangover ache of Dead Petz, Younger Now touches upon each of these obsessions and then wraps them in a tidy package. Occasionally, this slick veneer can masquerade the Internet irony of an individual song -- "Week Without You" plays like a Grease parody, the Dolly duet "Rainbowland" suggests a theme park of dancing GIFs -- but the professionalism of both the production and the performance highlights Cyrus' savvy skills. Younger Now reveals she's as comfortable crafting a plaintive country ballad ("Miss You So Much") as effervescent disco ("Thinkin'"), and the fact that these two seemingly disparate styles sit next to each other not altogether comfortably speaks to how Miley Cyrus' aesthetic is thoroughly modern. She may not bother with EDM drops or murmured vocals -- she's justifiably proud of flaunting her voice -- but she perceives no line dividing the past and the present, eagerly dressing up old-fashioned forms in newfangled sounds. If Younger Now seems slightly scattered as it flits from song to song, it nevertheless adds up to a portrait of a pop star so confident of her swagger, she doesn't bother with such niceties as old-fashioned flow. She knows she's got style for miles and miles, enough to keep her afloat when the time comes that she delivers her country tunes with acoustic guitars, not digital instruments, and she has the wisdom to know that snappy sheen is precisely what this particular album needs.© Stephen Thomas Erlewine /TiVo

Four years after the release of the twin-threat blockbuster film and album, the team behind Marvel Studios' Black Panther returned with a sequel and its accompanying soundtrack, Black Panther: Wakanda Forever. Still reeling from the passing of actor Chadwick Boseman -- both in real life and onscreen -- they managed to honor his legacy and push the character's story forward in respectful and appropriately mournful fashion. The songs follow suit, setting a somber and reflective tone that is punctuated by moments of celebration and an eye to the future. Split between two cultures that inspired the fictional kingdoms of Talokan (Mayan) and Wakanda (Nigeria), director Ryan Coogler and producer Ludwig Göransson curated a diverse set to support the film, capturing attention with global names (Rihanna, Future, Burna Boy, Stormzy) and showcasing artists that may be lesser-known outside of their genres (DBN Gogo, Vivir Quintana, Foudeqush, Fireboy DML). On the Talokanil/Mesoamerican side, the glimmering synths of "Con La Brisa" capture the shimmer of Namor's submerged home, while "Laayli' kuxa'ano'one" (by Adn Maya Colectivo, Pat Boy, Yaalen K'uj, and All Mayan Winik) and "Mi Pueblo" (by Guadalupe de Jesús Chan Poot) inject Mayan into the mix. Meanwhile, the haunting "Árboles Bajo El Mar" performed by Mare Advertencia Lirika and Vivir Quintana and the urgent "Inframundo" by Blue Rojo provide two of the most riveting vocal performances on the album. Taking it back to Wakanda and the African diaspora, Tems pulls double duty, first by gifting an un-retired Rihanna with the beautiful ballad "Lift Me Up" and then delivering her own take on the Bob Marley classic "No Woman No Cry." South African producer DBN Gogo also provides a pair of hip-shaking tracks from the amapiano subgenre ("Love & Loyalty [Believe]" and "Jele"). Additional highlights include Fireboy DML's uplifting "Coming Back for You"; the hypnotic "Anya Mmiri" from CKay and PinkPantheress; and the pulse-pounding "They Want It, But No" by Tobe and Fat Nwigwe, which matches a similar standout track/scene from the first movie ("Opps" by Vince Staples and Yugen Blakrok). This wealth of diversity makes Wakanda Forever a treasure trove, an immersive experience that uses fictional lands as a means for discovery of real-world cultural traditions.© Neil Z. Yeung /TiVo

Yo-Yo Ma's second recording of Bach's Cello Suites, released in 1997, came about after he heard a quote by Albert Schweitzer describing Bach as a pictorial composer. That led Ma to ask six directors and several other artists from different disciplines to collaborate with him on a series of short films -- part documentary, part performance -- each one based on one of the suites. The resulting mini-series, titled Inspired by Bach, was shown on television in Canada, the U.S., Europe, and at various film festivals. Each of the suites in this recording, however, isn't necessarily the exact soundtrack for the film it goes with, but it was what the other artists involved in the project used as their inspiration. The main question is: separate from the films, how does this set of suites differ from Ma's 1983 set? In general, Ma's interpretation isn't that different from the earlier recording. It isn't necessarily more mature, since only 12 years separate the recordings, and the 1983 version was already musically mature. It isn't more technically pure or historically authentic. What seems different is that each suite seems a little more distinct from the others, the movements within more cohesive, and that Ma's playing feels more instinctive, relaxed, and organic and even more openly communicative than the earlier recording. He's not exaggerating any of his dynamic, tempo, or phrasing decisions, yet there's a sense that he's letting the music flow naturally through his instrument. The dance movements truly dance, and even the more introspective movements of Suites No. 2 and No. 3 offer some captivation for the casual listener. It's as if Ma was inspired by the other artists involved in the project to be as honest as possible with them in how the music speaks to him.© TiVo

Dead Man is one of those unusual (and often legendary) soundtracks that a director or fan simply “hands over” to a jazz or folk star who improvises to the film that has already been edited. Released in 1996, Jim Jarmusch’s feature film tells the story of the wanderings of William Blake (Johnny Depp) and the Indian Nobody (Gary Farmer) through the Wild West in the late 19th century. Neil Young’s music is light years away from the epic scores found in the golden era of Hollywood westerns and is instead based on just the electric guitar, which is only replaced by an organ for the duration of one track (Organ Solo). The haunting sound of the electric guitar together with the magnificent black and white film plays a key part in creating Dead Man’s strange and psychedelic atmosphere, which is why there are six Guitar Solos on the soundtrack.Sensual, tortured and endearing, Neil Young’s guitar seems bewitched by the film’s visuals and he makes full use of effects like reverberation, distortion and delay. It is rare to find music so physically connected to a film and the marginality of the characters. Among the album’s bravura pieces are the lyrical Solo No.5 (which is almost 15 minutes long), as well as Solo No.6, whose effects sound like the cries of an injured animal. The track ends with the very poignant repetition of two simple notes, and with that the film ends too. It should also be pointed out that there are passages interspersed throughout the album during which Johnny Depp recites poems by William Blake. © Nicolas Magenham/Qobuz

Artistic inspirations can be invisible. Even in projects that outwardly state them, the connections may not be that obvious. Jazz alto saxophonist Amanda Gardier, who hails from the American Midwest, says she's using the films and more often the look of Wes Anderson's very distinct oeuvre as inspiration for these nine originals.  Accompanying her on this boat-pop exploration is her husband, guitarist Charlie Ballantine, bassist Jesse Wittman and in a wise move, drummer Dave King of the Bad Plus, who adds muscular patterns to the proceedings, playing intricate fills, and evincing his usual dexterity with cymbals, complex rhythms and forward yet not overwhelming percussiveness. Triggered by a scene in Anderson's 2021 film, The French Dispatch, the Gardier original "The Incarcerated Artist and his Muse" is a breezy platform anchored by Ballantine's chording, incisive embroidering from King and easy going Gardier solos. "Electroshock Therapy," inspired by 2012's Moonrise Kingdom, is driven forward by an anxious back and forth from Ballantine, who then adds a fleet, effects-free solo.  The spotlight shifts to Gardier as she enters pecking away in short breaths, opening to more legato moments where her ideas flow naturally together with admirable style. The tune ends with drums, guitar and saxophone pulsing together. Insistent rhythms, this time with a touch of funk, are also at the center of "Order for Yourself" (after a scene in 2007's The Darjeeling Limited) where guitar and saxophone double each other, again throbbing together at the close. Engineered by Tyler Watkins at Postal Recording in Indianapolis, Indiana, the sound is dry and crisp. Whether Auteur generates the kind of feelings that Gardier says she likes best about Anderson's work is up to individual tastes, but the creative energy at work here is to be commended for looking far afield for artistic stimulants. © Robert Baird/Qobuz

Cradle of Filth may be one of the only recognizable underground metal acts to an average person. Although mom and dad might not know who they are, the band enjoyed a streak of notoriety through the late '90s into the turn of the century that would be hard for a music fan to miss. Their theatrical approach to the black metal genre was nothing new, but they turned it up a notch by cutting out much of the humor and bad special effects that groups like Mercyful Fate depended on and replaced them with a creepier, nastier stage show. But unlike so many of the bands in this genre, they had the music to back it up, and Dusk and Her Embrace may be their finest moment. What they did more than any other group is take the extreme playing style of the Norwegian black metal scene and apply a Sisters of Mercy style of melody to the singing. A hundred different metal bands tried to use goth flourishes in their music, but Cradle of Filth realized that you could make goth conform to heavy metal, not the other way around. This results in some creepy material; just listen to "Heaven Torn Asunder" or "Malice Through the Looking Glass" to hear some of the most important black metal ever made. What is even weirder is how catchy this music is. They really do a good job of incorporating memorable vocal lines and melodies into one of the least accessible genres of the 20th century. The keyboard intros and flourishes may be a little much for some listeners, but in the field of gothic European black metal, would you really expect anything less? With catchy songs, a brutal delivery, and a great gimmick, this is as good as underground metal gets. Along with Emperor, Faxed Head, and a few other pioneers, this band really helped the black metal genre to reappear after the death metal craze of the early '90s, but more than any other group, they also helped to put a twisted, ugly face on the genre for all to see.© Bradley Torreano /TiVo